


Oh, Shelagh!

by ginchy



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M, bold Shelagh, medical dorks in love, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginchy/pseuds/ginchy
Summary: Companion piece to my 'Oh, Patrick!'.  A few weeks after the events of OP, Shelagh and Patrick are newlyweds doing as newlyweds do...





	Oh, Shelagh!

**Author's Note:**

> After writing "Oh, Patrick!" and Shelagh having all the... fun, I knew I had to write a companion piece so that Patrick could also have a good time. Thanks to fourteen-teacups and my-little-yellowbird for their excellent advice and allowing me to squee over my favorite characters as I worked on this silly piece of smut. <3

Patrick scribbled his signature on the last sheet of a stack of forms and set his pen on the desk in front of him. He gathered the papers and organized them into a folder, placing it on top of the other files in his bottom desk drawer. Readying the new Surgery and Maternity Home was busy, tiring work, but it was also exhilarating. He leaned back in his chair, looking out into his new office. The furniture had only just arrived earlier in the day, and Shelagh had been meticulous in where she instructed each desk, chair, and filing cabinet placed. Her eye for order and functionality would keep the Surgery running efficiently, and the small artful touches she brought to the space would not go amiss. The colors and furniture she had helped him to choose would soothe patients and allow them to feel at home in the new space. Shelagh had done much the same for their small flat in the few weeks since their wedding. Hardly a day had passed that he or Timothy had not happily been the recipient of the love and devotion that she heaped upon them in their home. Whether it was the warm meals, tidyness, or mere fact of her presence, Shelagh brought new life to the old flat and to the burgeoning Surgery and Maternity Home, and to the doctor who sat now, smiling as he thought of his beautiful new wife.

Their Sunday has started quietly, no calls outs in the night. He enjoyed waking to see Shelagh asleep still, and even when the phone did eventually ring he was only gone from the flat a few hours, returning to find Timothy and Shelagh back from church. After eating a plate set by for him, he had spent the rest of the day with the his two favorite people, face almost sore from laughing at Timothy’s antics. Tim loved to make Shelagh laugh, and Patrick loved to watch the joy steal across her face. As evening fell Timothy readied for bed as Shelagh worked on a white garment on the sofa. Stretching, he said that he might walk over to the new surgery, just to set a few papers in order before the nuns and midwives visited to tour the new maternity home. Shelagh kissed his cheek and said that she might take a quick bath while he worked. 

Pushing back from his seat now, he thought of her, of bath water and bubbles over supple skin. They had shared a bath together on the last night of their honeymoon. He imagined a drop of water sliding down Shelagh’s lower back and his blood stirred, body tense and ready to make a quick walk back to the flat. He was leaning to turn off the desk lamp when a slight noise stilled his hand. He looked up to find Shelagh standing in the doorway of his new office, clutching her pretty dressing gown around her body. 

“Hello, Patrick,” she said, voice soft in the semi-darkness of the room. “I hope you don’t mind that I came through.”

“Shelagh.” He blinked, reconciling the memory in his mind with the lovely reality at his door. Sitting back in his chair, he smiled and held a hand out to her. “Of course not, my love. I was just thinking of you.”

“Were you?” She came around the desk and took his hand in hers. “I don’t want to intrude if you’re still working.”

Patrick brought her hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips against the back of it. “My darling, you could never be intrusive.” He gestured to his empty desk. “As it is, I’m finished with work for the evening and was readying to come back home.”

“I’m glad that you’ve finished your work, Patrick.” She broke her hand from his grasp and gently touched his jaw. Her cheeks pinkened as she ran her thumb softly over his skin. “I was thinking about you, too.”

The rosy blush intrigued him and he couldn’t resist reaching up to brush his hand against one hot cheek. “What were you thinking?”

At his question the red flush travelled down her neck, and he followed it with his fingertip, brushing at the skin bared by her dressing gown. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “Not thoughts about unpacking the remainder of the surgical supplies, then?”

“Patrick,” she chided, “It was nothing to do with surgical supplies.” She moved her hand from his jaw, tracing a finger over his lower lip. She looked at him with bright, mischievous eyes. “Though I had a wee bit of concern that you might open the boxes and hastily remove their contents.”

He tugged playfully at the belt of her dressing gown. “There’s only one thing I’d like to remove, Shelagh.”

She drew in a breath and looked over her shoulder, as if someone might be watching. “Patrick--”

“We’re quite alone, darling. As alone as we may ever be here.” He left the gown’s tie in place, cupping her hips. “Perhaps we should go back--” his words trailed off as he looked up and met his wife’s eyes. Their gazes clung in the semi-darkness of the room. “What were you thinking about?” Patrick kept his voice low, and his eyes never flickered from Shelagh’s.

The rosy flush came back to her face, but instead of pulling away she broke his hold and lowered herself across his lap, murmuring his name as she moved against his burgeoning excitement. He rested one hand on her thigh and grasped it in appreciation of her tantalizing movements. Bringing her hands to the buttons of his shirt, she slid the first one from its hole. “I was thinking that I wanted to…” she paused and slid another button free. “I was thinking that I like to touch you.” She toyed with the third button and whispered, “That I want to touch you.”

He pushed his forehead against her with a groan, the scent of her bath and the warmth of her lissome body rousing him further. Her small hands continued with another button and his body thrummed with excitement, hardening completely in response to her and the desire building between them. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and he reached to gently loosen the knot until the wealth of it came free, falling about her shoulders. His fingers twisted in the soft waves as she finished unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it open. 

She lowered her head and pressed her lips to the skin just below his collarbone. He held her head between his hands as she lightly nibbled her way up his neck. When she reached his chin he forced himself to remain very still, to let her take her time to touch him as she had said. His hard length twitched against her thigh at the thought and she pulled back to look into his eyes, a pleased smile on her face. “You like that,” she whispered, and he snapped, using his hold on her to pull her to him and slant his mouth over hers.

She met him eagerly, fingernails tracing the sensitive skin at the back of his neck as he controlled the kiss, slipping his tongue between her parted lips to taste and tease. The chair creaked beneath them as Shelagh pressed even closer, tilting her face to change the angle of their kiss. Pushing his hard length against her leg, Patrick growled and broke from the kiss, pulling back to look at his panting wife. 

He stared into her clear eyes, hooded with desire, before allowing his gaze to travel to the mouth damp from his kisses, and further to the cleft of her breast peeking out from the dressing gown that had been pushed aside in their frantic embrace. Swallowing hard, he looked back into her eyes and righted the gown, covering her once more. “I would set you on my desk and strip this off,” he whispered, thumbing a hardened nipple through the gown’s fabric. Shelagh moaned and arched her back, and he almost lost his tenuous hold on restraint. “Yet I fear if we were to go that far I would never be able to concentrate in this office again.”

Shelagh’s cheeks reddened once more, but she seemed to be hiding a smile as she stood from his lap. “It would never do for me to distract the doctor in his practice.” She took a step back as he rose from the seat. He stepped away from the chair to stand before her. She looked up at him as she slid a slim finger down the soft cotton of his vest. “Though in the privacy of our own flat…” she hooked her finger into the waistband of his trousers and tugged as if to encourage him to follow her. 

Patrick grunted, moving forward. “You may tug on something else to get me to follow,” he gritted out, heart pounding at the invitation in Shelagh’s pull.

“Could I?” Shelagh used her free hand to lightly cup him through the fabric of his trousers. 

He moaned helplessly at her touch. “Oh, Shelagh,” he choked out, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go--”

She took his hand and raised it to her mouth, softly placing her lips against his palm. A shiver worked its way down his spine, and he was almost light-headed with desire. Smiling, she clasped his hand in her own as she turned to leave the office. He followed her through the maze of clinical rooms, eyes trained to her slender figure. Her gown nipped in at the waist before falling softly over her curves, and the walk seemed never-ending and increasingly uncomfortable as he watched the gentle sway or her hips. Reaching the entry to the corridor that led to the flat, Shelagh stopped to turn the handle. Patrick pressed in closely behind her. 

“Patrick,” she whispered. “We’re almost to the flat!”

“It’s too far,” he grumbled, sweeping her hair from her neck to press his lips to the sensitive skin behind her ear. Shelagh gasped, pressing backward into his embrace. He groaned his contentment and smoothed his lips down her neck, moving the collar of her dressing gown aside to continue his exploration to her shoulder. 

“Dearest!” She managed to push the door open, stepping aside as he went through, down one step and into the corridor. 

He turned back to find her still on the step. In the dim light from the windows that ran the upper length of the wall, she looked different, an intent gaze on her face, as if the closed hallway granted her a freedom that the open office had not. “What is it?” He moved closer, almost looking her in the eye with the advantage of height the step afforded her. 

She surged forward, grasping his braces to pull him into another kiss. His shoe tips pushed into the step as he pressed into her, sliding his arms down her back and bottom to caress and fondle. Wrapping her arms around his neck she plunged one hand into his hair, and clutched his shoulder with the other. 

He growled at her ministrations and thrust against her, desperate for friction. Shelagh gasped into their kiss, and he wanted to hear that sound again. He slid a hand between their bodies, trying to maneuver through the folds of the dressing gown to touch her. He knew that she was naked beneath the lovely fabric, but sliding his fingers against her bare bottom made him pull from their kiss to catch his breath. Knowing that she had walked determinedly to his office, through rooms that they would occupy together in a professional capacity, in nothing more than a thin gown, enticed him to a point of pure need as he caressed her soft skin. 

“Shelagh,” he breathed, placing his lips to her sensitive ear. “Darling--” He teased her lobe with the tip of his tongue as he squeezed her supple flesh.

“Please,” Shelagh gasped, using her position on the stair to wrap one leg around his hip. 

Catching her intention, he lifted her up as both legs wrapped around his hips. Turning with her in his arms, he pressed her against the wall, burying his face in her neck as she pressed intimately against his hard need. He jerked against her, lips kissing a line against the collar of her gown. Pulling at it, tugging impatiently at the sash, he opened the gown to her waist, pushing her further up the wall to rub his cheek against the curve of her breast, lashing his tongue at the peaked tip. 

Shelagh gave a small cry, undulating against him. She grasped his head and brought his mouth back to hers for a deep kiss, panting as he rocked against her. Breaking from his mouth, she pulled at his shirt until it caught against a brace. Leaning forward, her tongue darted against his neck and he faltered in movements, shuddering as she kissed her way to his shoulder, her teeth nibbling at the sensitive tendon there. 

Losing control, Patrick tried to calm himself, to remember that they were not yet in the safety of their bedroom. Yet as she continued her tiny kisses and gentle nibbles, he was only too happy to follow her lead, sensitized by her soft weight in his arms. Her kisses returned her to his mouth, and they kissed again, mouths glancing and parting as they worked one another to new heights. 

A car horn sounded outside of the building and they separated, harsh breaths amplified in the darkened corridor. Patrick leaned his forehead against hers. “I am never going to get this gown off of you.” 

Shelagh huffed with a giggle, leaning back against the wall, trying to catch her breath. Looking down at the exposed skin of her chest, she colored, pulling the gown together. “Patrick! You nearly have!” They laughed together, but the laughter faded as Shelagh brushed her fingers over the flare of hair beside his ear, contemplating him in the half-light. Her breath seemed to catch as her eyes strayed to the corridor’s far exit. “Take me home, darling.”

“Yes, Mrs. Turner,” he murmured, easing her down from the wall. He took her hand, leading her through the door and across the quiet flat and finally into their bedroom. He closed the door and locked it, turning to look at his wife. They breathed in tandem for a moment, staring at one another across the distance. He began to advance on her, but she met him mid-stride, standing on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his once more. He tore away from her mouth and stripped the dressing gown off completely. He must have looked triumphant at its removal because Shelagh dimpled with more giggles. Her breasts jiggled with her laughter and he reached out, tweaking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Shelagh’s giggles stopped as she sharply inhaled. “Patrick, please…” 

Her plea was lost in the frantic heat between them as she pressed close, slipping her arms beneath his open shirt and under his vest to clutch at his back. His mouth took hers once more, tongue delving and meeting hers. She ran her nails down his spine to the waistband of his trousers and he withdrew his tongue to nip at her lips when she followed the band of the trousers to the front. Sliding the button from its hole, she lifted her hands to pull his braces down his arms. The trousers fell to the floor. He stood very still, watching her as she contemplated him. He remembered her breathless voice in his office, admitting that she wanted to touch him. His erection throbbed beneath his thin pants at the thought, stiff and hard, ready for her. Yet he waited, interested in Shelagh’s next move. Her bold actions intrigued him and he revelled in her new confidence, enjoying her thorough perusal of him. He shivered as she pulled at his shirt, dragging it down his arms. His skin was sensitive to her every move, and when she pressed her lips to his throat, his arousal jerked against her belly. 

She murmured his name, sliding her hands behind to grasp his bottom. Patrick groaned as she kneaded his muscles. He pressed against her, clenching his hands to keep from grabbing her, stopping her play before she was finished. Her fingers inched up his lower back, pulling at his vest. He yanked it over his head and stood before her in only his pants, ready to beg her to continue her exquisite torture. He tilted her chin with a single finger. “What were you thinking about tonight, Shelagh?” 

“Patrick,” she whispered, breaking from his hold to cuddle close to his chest, kissing it and running her fingers over his stomach. 

“Shelagh…”

“I was thinking…” She took a breath, glancing up at him before looking down and exhaling, “of this.” She removed the last piece of fabric between them and took him into her hand. 

He stuttered a hoarse groan, pressing hard into her hand. “Oh… oh, Shelagh…”

She pulled at him softly, gently playing with him. “I was thinking that I wanted to hear that sound in your voice… the sound you make when you’re… pleased--”

Choking on a pleasured sob, Patrick grabbed her and pushed her to the bed. He could take no more teasing. She spread her legs and accepted him on top of her as his lips claimed hers for a heated moment before tearing away. He buried his face in her neck, grinding himself into her heat at her cleft. Shelagh cried out, and then her eyes widened behind her lenses, as she pressed her lips together, trying to stifle her moans as he rubbed over her. “I like that sound, too,” he ground out between stiff lips. “God, please… Oh, Shelagh…”

“Yes, now…” she panted, wrapping her legs around his hips once more, as he drove into her, pressing her into the mattress as he immediately set a rhythm, hardly able to think as his mind was overcome with the pleasure they shared. Shelagh’s head whipped against the pillow and he licked her neck before reclaiming her lips. She whimpered as he pushed in deeply and rocked against her. Her pleasure guided him, sending his own to greater heights as they tangled together against the sheets. 

She was soft and damp and beautiful underneath of him, and she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He bit at her lips as she tightened around him, encouraging him to please her. “Oh, Shelagh,” he moaned into her ear as bliss began to overtake him, “Oh, Shelagh…”

She shuddered, clenching her nails into his shoulders, spasming as she came in long waves of ecstasy, eyes closed and lips pressed together to stifle the sounds of her completion. He tried to keep his own sounds in check, but softly cried out as he followed after her, pressing deeply inside of her with each pulse of pleasure.

Pulling to his side, he cuddled her close. He ran a hand through her hair and over her sweaty back, trying to catch his breath. Shelagh’s glasses pressed into his arm and she removed them to the side table before rubbing a soothing hand over his chest and belly. Taking her hand in his, he laced her fingers with his own. He raised their hands to his mouth, kissing her fingers and the back of her hand. 

“Oh, Patrick,” she murmured, eyes bright with love. 

He smiled, bringing their hands to rest against his heart. 

\---

The next morning was hectic. The family overslept and Timothy was out-of-sorts because of it. Shelagh bustled about the kitchen in her fluffy blue dressing gown, placing a slice of toast in Patrick’s hand as she implored Tim to eat at least a bite of his breakfast. Patrick shuffled out of the flat toward his housecalls, promising Shelagh that he would meet her at the new Surgery after her lunch at Nonnatus House so that they could preview the new building to their colleagues. 

Patrick ran through the door only a few minutes behind schedule, and stopped to admire his wife, lovely in her navy blue suit, extolling the ins and outs of the filing system to her captive audience. Sister Julienne and Nurse Miller appeared to be listening carefully while Sister Evangelina and Nurse Franklin seemed to be trying to peek around corners, to find out more about the new building. 

“... I’ll let Dr. Turner fill you in on the set-up,” Shelagh concluded, turning her sweet smile on him. 

He smiled back, looking at her a beat longer than appropriate, he was certain, from the pinkness in her cheeks and the throat-clearing from Sister Evangelina. “Right,” he said, and moved them through to the ward, his new office, the nursery and clinical rooms, giving a brief overview of his planned procedures and future use of the space. 

“It’s quite lovely,” Nurse Miller said, standing outside of the nursery. “You’ve plenty of space for ante-and-post-natal care.”

“Your new venture will be a boon for the community, Dr. Turner.” Sister Julienne looked toward her Sister with a gentle smile.

Sister Evangelina sniffed, looking into the room once more, before looking toward the ceiling and back toward Patrick. “It’s not so modern as to be only about folderols. The ward will offer a sense of home to our mothers.”

“Yes, thank you,” Patrick said, sharing a look with Shelagh as the Sister turned to walk down the hall. “Before you go, there is one more advantage the new surgery holds, at least for myself and possibly for those of you who might visit our flat from time to time.” 

Shelagh lead the group to the corridor that connected the surgery with the flat. “Owning the building certainly is advantageous,” she said, opening the door and allowing the group to file in and down the step. “The far door opens right into the flat. Dr. Turner has been working many late nights and can easily pop from his office to home in no more than a moment!”

“Well, this is terribly convenient, I should think.” Trixie looked down the hall and grinned. “And a bonus--Mrs. Turner shall never be far away!”

Shelagh smiled and bowed her head. “Quite.”

“Yes, it’s lovely, but there’s work to be done.” Sister Evangelina gave a meaningful look to the young midwives and motioned the group to exit the corridor ahead of her. At the door to the Surgery Sister Julienne thanked them for their hospitality as she and the nurses left the building. Sister Evangelina held back, stopping just inside of the door to hand a bit of cloth to Shelagh. “I believe this belongs to you.” Setting her lips, she stalked away. 

Shelagh turned, a horrified look on her face as she unfurled her fist and held up the sash from her dressing gown. 

“That’s us caught,” Patrick tried to joke, certain that his face was just as red as his wife’s. She was looking down at the tie and he wanted to reach out, concerned that Shelagh’s new-found confidence had just been shaken by her former Sister. When she didn’t react, he reached for her shoulder. “Darling--”

Shelagh looked up, a tiny smile forming on her face as she held the sash taut with both hands. “Patrick, we’re only lucky she didn’t knot this around your neck.” 

Surprised, he began to laugh, releasing the tension as she joined him with her own giggles. Taking the belt from her, he stuffed it into his pocket. Drawing her into his arms, he rubbed her shoulder with his thumb and grinned down at her. “Oh, Shelagh!”


End file.
